


Dog Days

by elandhop



Series: Stay [24]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Autism Acceptance Month 2019, Autism Spectrum, Down Syndrome, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Wayhaught - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elandhop/pseuds/elandhop
Summary: “I don’t even know what her favorite color, is Waverly. I assumed it was purple because of her walker, but how do I not even know my own daughter’s favorite color?”Or,A new member of the family changes Waverly and Nicole’s life for the better.





	Dog Days

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all of your support for my series. I am blown away by your kindness.  
> If this is your first time reading Stay, all you need to know is that Waverly and Nicole are foster parents to a little girl who is on the Autism spectrum, and who has a physical disability.  
> Feel free to reach out to me on Twitter @EarpSisters22 if you have any comments, concerns, or prompts for the series.  
> I also have a "Stay" group chat that anyone is welcome to join.  
> Without further adieu...  
> Enjoy!

**Dog Days**

Our story starts with two fluffy ears, a black nose, and a lot of fur. Our story also begins with four paws, two fluffy ears, a black nose, and a lot of for laying on a certain redhead’s lap.

  
“You’re such a sweet boy, Bolt. Yes, you are.” It’s not Waverly, who is absentmindedly checking her “diaper” bag, and making sure they have everything for the day’s outing to the park. Cheerios, Hand sanitizer, wipes, band-aids, Ariel’s communication device, and a spare dress are safely tucked into her bag, which seems to expand as Mary Poppins’ does.  
  
It’s certainly not Ariel. The tiny redhead stands in the kitchen next to Alice, hands on either side of her walker, ready to _g-o-_ go to the park. Ariel dons a purple shirt that boasts _Mama’s Bestie_ in pink lettering, soft pink yoga pants, and rainbow socks. Her red curls are pulled into two small puffs at the top of her head, held into place with purple scrunchies.

  
Nicole finishes giving the puppy lots of kisses, and peers into the kitchen as she commands Bolt to heel. Obediently, the tiny Australian Shepherd walks toward his little master and sits at her feet.

She watches happily as Bolt nuzzles the wheels of Ariel’s walker with his nose. “See? Bolt is such a _good_ baby boy for his Ma.”

  
Waverly rolls her eyes and pokes Nicole in the tummy. Her fiancée looks gorgeous with her hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail at the crown of her head, tight blue jeans, and a simple Purgatory Sheriff’s Department T-Shirt.  
  
“You’re too much. If you two start playing Ninja Warrior on the monkey bars, Bolt might think that Ariel’s in trouble. You’d better be careful, sweetheart.” She throws the diaper bag over her shoulder and stands on her tiptoes to give Nicole a kiss on the cheek.  
  
Nicole smirks because her Waverly is such a worry wart. “We’ll be careful. I promise. _Bolty baby just needs to get used to Coco’s antics_.”

“Silly.” Ariel squeezes her hands together and stares down at Bolt. _CoCo_ is silly because her voice sounds different.

“CoCo is silly, Ariel. That’s why I’m marrying her. She’s a total goofball.” Waverly pulls her long hair up into a ponytail and grabs her cell phone from the counter. Nicole gets on her knees next to her daughter and places her hands on Ariel’s cheeks to initiate eye contact.

“Ariel, do you remember what the next step is?”

“Walk.” She flaps her hands up and down as if she’s beating on a drum to sign the word to Nicole. _Walk._

_“Good,_ baby.” Waverly snaps a couple of pictures of Nicole showing Ariel how to hold Bolt’s leash. She’s fairly certain that Ariel and her canine companion are going to be the best of friends.

“Mama and I are _so_ proud of you, Princess.”

Ariel bites her lip as she feels the dog stir at her feet. She’s fairly certain that CoCo and Wavy _love_ Bolt more than they _like_ her. Her evidence comes from this morning. Waverly _knows_ that she likes a bowl of Cheerios and a banana sliced into twelve little pieces. Today, her Mama got distracted while cutting the banana to fill Bolt’s water dish, and the banana wound up in ten pieces. Ariel refused to eat it.

It also doesn’t help that CoCo wanted to hold Bolt this morning, instead of her.

(Alice is teaching her how to become a detective like someone named Nancy Drew.)

“Okay, Ma.” She stares at Bolt. “Go?”

“Go? Where are we going, Ariel?” Nicole puts her finger on her chin and grins at her little girl. “Can you remember?”

Ariel reaches toward her CoCo and stumbles forward, pulling Bolt into the mish-mosh of a hug.

“Lunch at the park,” she says, wrapping her arms around her ginger mother’s neck. “No school.”

Waverly smiles and purses her lips together. “We’re playing hooky today, huh?”  She throws the diaper bag over her shoulder and opens the door for her girls.

She knows that it’s terrible to let her daughter _skip_ school, but considering Bolt had just come home last night, and Ariel complaining of a slight tummy ache this morning, the idea of Ariel bonding with her dog before she introduces him to her classmates doesn’t seem too bad. The little girl _might_ have caught on to the fact that Nicole is off from work today, too.

“No school! No school!” Ariel cheers as she walks forward, one hand on her walker, the other steadily holding Bolt’s leash.

“No tummy ache either, apparently.” Waverly winks at her fiancée, and giggles as Nicole ushers her out the door, but not before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“It’s Mothers’s Day on Sunday, Ma.” Ariel kicks her feet against her car seat, careful not to hit Bolt in the head. The dog is sat at her feet, even in the car.

_It’s like she can’t escape from him._

“Mothers’s?” Nicole glances at her girls in the rearview mirror and turns on her blinker to turn the Jeep into the park. She grimaces as she feels the rough gravel hit her tires. “Where did you learn that word?”

“Alice said I have to say ‘Happy Mothers’s Day’  because I got two. Sunday is a day when we celebrate all of the special women in our lives.” Ariel sounds like a carbon copy of her teacher. Waverly can’t help but marvel at how _smart_ the little girl is, and that her speech has improved (even if some of it is scripting from other people).

“You’re right, Ariel. It is Mother’s Day on Sunday. You’re kind of a mini Mama now, too since Bolt is like your baby.” Waverly kind of sighs as she says this because she can’t imagine being a grandparent already.

Ariel wearily stares at the dog. She would _not_ like to be his mother, thank-you-very-much.

“I made you cards and worksheets in school. And pot.” She clicks her seatbelt, and the strap loosens. She pulls four fingers outside her palm. _Out. Out. Out._

“ _Pot_?” Nicole can’t help but snort as she grabs the diaper bag from the passenger seat, and swings around the side of the car to open the door for Ariel and Waverly. Waverly leans into Nicole’s shoulder as she unbuckles her belt.

“Right behind the _church?_ CoCo is _naughty.”_ She has to bite her tongue after she whispers to her fiancee. Nicole looks so _cute_ for their outing to the park. Waverly grabs the purple baseball cap from the floor of the car and plops it atop her red hair.

“My ladies,” Nicole says. She takes Waverly’s hand and helps her down from the Jeep, nuzzling her nose to the side of Waverly’s cheek. For a moment, they forget that they’re in front of a very-impressionable five-year-old who doesn’t miss a beat.

“Out please, Mama. Out please, Ma.” Ariel looks like an angel always, but her red hair shines in the sun. Bolt leads the way toward the playground, clad in his red vest that boasts SERVICE DOG. The playground is pretty empty, save for a few stragglers with children younger than Ariel.

Waverly sets the picnic blanket on the grass and stretches out her legs as Ariel effortlessly sits next to her foster mother, Bolt’s body stretched at her feet. The dog doesn’t make a sound.

“Just because you missed school doesn’t mean your Ma and I won’t quiz you.” Ariel turns to face her Mama and puts her hands on her cheeks as Waverly giggles.

“No school!” Ariel covers Waverly’s mouth with her tiny, freckled, hands. Waverly puffs her cheeks out and Ariel squeezes them. Her Mama’s mouth makes a _pop_ , and she can’t help but smile.

Nicole joins her girls on the blanket and sighs. It’s awfully sunny, but also a gorgeous spring day. She spreads her legs out into a _V_ and sweeps Ariel up in her lap.

“ _Egg, caterpillar...:”_ She puts her hand into a fist and then wiggles her pointer finger as she sings the silly song. “Tell CoCo what comes next.”

Ariel peers over her shoulder to see CoCo’s face. She takes the hat off of her head and puts it on her own head. It wobbles and falls in front of her face. Ariel wishes she were as cool as her CoCo.

“BUTTERFLY!” She puts her thumbs together and flaps her fingers back and forth like wings.

“You’re right, Ariel! I think there’s _one_ thing that happens in between the caterpillar and the butterfly though. Can you remember?” Waverly runs her fingers through Bolt’s fur as the dog remains still on the blanket. He’s _such_ a good boy.

“Christ-a-liss.” She flips the cap to the back of her head because Wavy likes to flip the cap whenever CoCo wears it. “Egg, caterpillar, Jesus Christ-a-liss, butterfly.”

“You’re a smart cookie Jesus Christ-a-liss That’s a _Wynonna-ism_ I haven’t heard before.” Waverly offers her foster daughter a high five, which she halfheartedly accepts.

“Cookie,” Ariel says. “Yummy.”

Her heart sinks as she watches Bolt climb into Waverly’s lap. Waverly’s lap is _her_ best cuddle spot, and she can’t believe that Bolt _stole_ it from her. She stares at the dog and observes his tongue sticking out as he pants.

“Ninja-Ma.” Ariel sits on her knees and squats into a _W_ which she knows is an absolute no-no in occupational therapy.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. Ariel _knows_ that she’s supposed to sit Criss-Cross-Applesauce or with her legs stretched out.  

“If you want Ninja, you need to show me that you can sit correctly.” She attempts to take hold of her daughter’s legs, and gently place them on the blanket in a proper sitting position, but the little girl _writhes,_ refusing to still her legs.

“If you want Ninja, show CoCo your strong legs _._ ” Waverly grabs Ariel’s feet and tries to steady them.

It doesn’t take long for the squealing to start and for Ariel to kick Waverly, barely in control over her movements because her brain is spinning a mile a minute. Tiny hands and arms fly out and slap Nicole’s arms away from her body.

A certain four-letter exploitive races through Nicole’s mind. She should have left the situation alone. If she hadn’t said anything, they’d be playing on the jungle gym.

It’s like Waverly can read her mind.

Bolt stands up and approaches his little girl. He lays his head on her lap, and what could have turned into a full-fledged temper tantrum turns into a soft murmur as Ariel stops yelling and touches his soft fur. With her legs stretched out properly, the five-year-old looks peaceful.

“If you didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t be teaching her the correct way to sit, Nicole.” Waverly leans over to stroke Nicole’s cheek and squeezes her hand. She tilts her head toward Ariel.

“Gentle touches, baby.” Her statement has a double meaning as she watches Ariel run her fingers through Bolt’s fur with gumption. She knows that their girl lacks control over her body during outbursts.

It’s tough when she hits them without meaning to. They know it isn’t intentional.

“I guess.” Nicole shrugs and reaches across the picnic blanket for Waverly’s hand.

“Be gentle, Princess.” Waverly squeezes her hand and trails her fingers up Nicole’s forearm.

“We’re okay,” she whispers to Nicole. It’s a minor setback, but they need to talk to their daughter. So, they kind of corner her in, one mother on either side. The little girl looks from Waverly to Nicole, and back again.

“CoCo and Wavy mad?” She scoots into herself, throwing her arms around the dog, hiding her face in his fur. She doesn’t _like_ Bolt yet, but she dislikes it when CoCo and Wavy don’t smile at her even more.

“Ma and I aren’t mad, Ariel. We just want you to sit right so that your legs become _super_ strong, and so that they don’t hurt you when you walk.” Ariel peeks at Waverly through Bolt’s fur.

Nicole nuzzles the fur behind Bolt’s ears with her fingers, stopping to stroke her daughter’s short, curly, locks. “We don’t like it when your legs hurt you, Princess. We want you to be safe.”

She doesn’t push the hitting for now, because they’ll talk about it later when everyone is in a better mood. They’ll tuck her into the queen sized bed, and whisper about gentleness and _kindness,_ and about how smart she is. About how she can _learn_ to know better. Because she can, and she will, with time.

For now, they play.

Ariel wiggles out from underneath Bolt and hops onto Nicole’s back like a monkey.

“Ninja now?” She pushes Waverly’s sunglasses from her head onto her face. Her Wavy can’t possibly have sad eyes on a beautiful day at the park. She hates it when Waverly’s eyebrows go up, and the corners of her eyes droop down.

Waverly looks at Nicole, and Nicole looks at Waverly.

They give in, just as Nicole receives a text from Wynonna. She presses the home screen to unlock her phone. The wallpaper always makes her smile. It’s a picture of herself, Waverly, and Ariel asleep on the couch. Wynonna took the photo. Sometimes, she thinks, her future sister-in-law can be sweet.

“Wynonna asked me if she could go home early. She’s not feeling well.” Nicole reads the text aloud, frowns, and sends Wynonna a text to ask her if she needs anything.

“Crap. We can pick her up T-I-M-H-O-R-T-O-N-S on the way back if she wants a D-O-N-U-T.” Waverly hand signs the word _donut_ quite explicitly, that it almost looks inappropriate, with her index finger poking through an imaginary hole after she fingerspells the words.

“You spelled _way_ too many words _way_ too fast. You know that my sign language could be better.” Nicole teases Waverly but presses a swift kiss to her fiancee's lips as she blushes. Waverly takes it as a compliment that she’s learned to communicate in an alternative way to help their daughter.

“I need to keep you on your toes, Nicole. Or else you’ll have to eat veggies for dinner.” Waverly raises an eyebrow and winks. It’s been _much_ too long since they’ve had five minutes to themselves.

“Mhm,” Nicole pushes a lock of long, brown, hair behind Waverly’s ear. “I like one veggie in particular.” Her face goes beet red as she remembers their conversation from last week.

“Ninja, please.” Ariel taps her CoCo on the shoulder. She moves her legs into the correct position and squeezes her hands together.

“Okay,” Nicole says, giving Ariel a thumbs up, and kissing the tiny girl on the cheek. Their girl smells like pure _kid,_ mixed with a generous amount of perfume she’d “pretended” to spray, prior to leaving the house. Nicole wraps tiny legs around her torso, freckled arms around her neck, and runs toward the jungle gym as she basks in the silly laugh of her little girl. Bolt follows his master and sits atop the wood chips.

_Ninja_ is a game that Waverly Earp does not approve of. _Ninja_ was inspired by the television show _American Ninja Warrior_ of which her girls are _obsessed_ with. (Waverly’s almost certain that Nicole has crushes on a few of the lady ninjas which makes her the teensiest bit jealous).

But, like Nicole always reminds her, no one is in a competition for her love, because her heart belongs one-hundred percent to Waverly and Ariel.

_Ninja_ involves Ariel climbing on Nicole’s back and Nicole running as fast as possible through the jungle-gym obstacles until she declares Ariel the winner, and allows her to hit the “buzzer” at the top of the slide. She hasn’t dropped their little girl, not even once. Nicole knows their time to play _Ninja_ will be limited as Ariel keeps growing.

Waverly’s anxiety comes to fruition when Ariel whirls down the slide in her CoCo’s lap and hits a toddler in the _stomach_ once they reach the bottom of the slide. She runs toward the little boy, Nicole, and Ariel, and nearly collides into the boy’s father.

Bolt runs toward Ariel in a dash, and sits at her feet, in front of the little boy.

“I’m so sorry, sir, we didn’t see him at the bottom.” Nicole pulls Ariel onto her lap at the bottom of the slide as the father picks his screaming toddler up from the wood chipped ground.

“It’s cool. Little man will be alright. She’s got good aim. Have you considered putting her in soccer?”  She got him _good.”_ As the father dusts the wood chips off of his son’s body, Waverly grabs Nicole’s hand, and they inspect Ariel for bruises.

“Are you two okay?” The man wipes his toddler’s tears, and sets the boy on the ground, free to mill around.

Nicole looks so _guilty_ and tilts her head toward the much larger man. “It’s my fault. We should have looked before we slid. We go pretty fast on this thing, and… Ariel, what do you say to the little boy?”

“Accident.” Ariel squeezes her hands together and reaches out for Waverly. “Accident, Mama.”

“What do we say when an accident happens? I’m…” Waverly is about to sign _I’m sorry_ to model for her daughter when she sees the beginning of a situation occur. Ariel’s eyes focus. Her attention is devoted to the little boy. She watches as he leaves his father’s side, and toddles right toward…

“No! No!” Ariel reaches out, and the smile disappears from her face. She puts her hands over her eyes so that maybe she doesn’t have to see what is about to happen.

“Ariel, you need to apo- _oh-_ gosh that’s not supposed to happen.” Waverly watches as Bolt licks the little boy’s hands, and sits obediently as the boy reaches out to pet him.

“No! No sorry! He broke a rule!” Ariel hides her face in Waverly’s chest and starts to rock back and forth. The man makes the situation worse, as he leans down next to his son, and pets Bolt on the head.

“He’s a good boy,” the man says, winking at Waverly.

“Sir, would you mind not petting our dog? He’s a service dog on duty for our daughter.” The man _totally_ ignores Waverly, and instead takes out his phone to snap pictures of his son’s interaction with Bolt.

“Rules, please! Rules!” Ariel’s face transforms from a frown into a scowl, and she looks up at her Wavy with sad, disappointed, eyes.

“Geez, you’d ought to teach your kid to be a little friendlier. All Wyatt wanted to do was pet the dog.” With his snide comment, the man leans down to pet Bolt once more. In return, Bolt barks and snarls.

“Excuse me? He’s a service dog for _my_ kid. I don’t appreciate you touching him without permission.” Nicole scoops up Ariel in her arms and holds her close, as Waverly backs toward the slide.

“ _Your_ kid? I thought she was the hot one’s kid,” says the man, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ _Stop. Think. How do I solve a problem? Stop. Think. How do I solve a problem?”_  Ariel remains in her own little world, happy to stim away. She squeezes her hands together and apart then together and apart again.

“She’s uptight like you, that’s for sure. Freak.” The man takes his son by the hand

“Leave my family alone,” Nicole says, and she escorts her girls and their dog back to the picnic blanket. They pretend like nothing is wrong. Thankfully, Ariel doesn’t realize that her Mama and Ma are wearing fake smiles until they ensure that the man is out of sight.

Ariel has never been prouder of her canine companion for barking at the mean man. Her Mama and Ma aren’t bad either. She can’t believe that she gets to stay with them forever.

Nicole is _furious._ She wishes that people would respect boundaries. She wishes that the world was a little friendlier and more accommodating for people like her daughter. She also wants to kick the man in the balls for making a pass at her future wife.

Ariel makes her disdain for Bolt known that night before they tuck her into their bed. She hides under the covers as soon as she hears the dog’s paws tread against the carpeted floors. But she kind of likes it that she’s not all alone in her bedroom with just Alice. She almost likes the feeling of Bolt’s fur in her fingers so much, that she falls asleep before Wavy and CoCo have to carry her into their room.

* * *

“Hey,” Waverly whispers, propping herself atop the bathroom counter, awhile later. Nicole turns off the faucet, spits toothpaste into the sink, hands on her hips, and sighs.

“Hi.” Nicole gives Waverly a small smile and smirks as her girlfriend reaches for the hairbrush in the drawer. Legs dangling down, Waverly sticks a hair tie between her teeth and hands the brush to Nicole.

“Bun?” Waverly doesn’t take no for an answer, nor waits for Nicole to respond to such a proposition. She nestles Nicole in between her legs and giggles as her lady grabs the hair tie from her teeth, and obediently brushes her long hair into a bun that would put any dance mom to shame.

“Oh, _Waverly,_ ” Nicole admires her work. It’s not the finest bun she’s created for her fiancee, but it’ll have to do. “I don’t know if she’ll stay asleep. I-”

Waverly wraps her arms around Nicole’s neck and pulls her forward. Her lips meet the bridge of Nicole’s nose, ear, and cheek before finding a home at her upper lip. She squeezes Nicole’s upper lip with her own and smiles satisfactorily as she feels her sigh. Nicole gasps and pulls at the hem of Waverly’s nightshirt.

“ _Shit,”_ she whispers when she can’t get the old Shorty’s shirt off. Even sex isn’t the same. She knows she shouldn’t cry after what happened today. Nicole Haught doesn’t cry over grown-up-man-babies, but maybe she does tear up over grown-up-man-babies who insult her family.

“I don’t even know what her favorite color, is Waverly. I assumed it was purple because of her walker, but how do I not even know my own daughter’s favorite color? I feel like I put her in danger today with that God-awful asshole.”

“She’s talking so much more now, Nicole. She improves every day. I think we need to start asking her questions. She might be able to tell us what she likes and doesn’t like now. She’s totally more vocal, and it showed today.”

“I couldn’t even defend my family. I just walked away.”

“You did. Defending us doesn’t always mean throwing punches, Nicole. I’d rather walk away as the bigger person than have words with a complete piece of shit.”

And with that, Waverly kisses away the tears, and leads Nicole into their bedroom. They face each-other, criss-cross-applesauce atop the mattress.

“You look _beautiful,_ Waverly.” Nicole reaches out, and Waverly climbs atop her lap like she’s done so many times before. (And Waverly, being Waverly, grabs a tissue from their nightstand and helps her fiancee blow.) Her arms slink around Nicole’s waist, hands slipping down to untie her sweatpants.

“Tell me what is bothering you. We could get a voodoo doll of that guy, you know. Stick all the sewing pins in his di-” She throws the dirty tissue to the side, and slips the sweatpants down Nicole’s legs.

Nicole glances at Waverly’s shirt and grins, gently running her fingers over the hem. “That’d be nice. Being mom and sheriff is just so _hard_ sometimes, and I like to remember what it was like when we were kids.”

“ _Kids?_ I’m twenty- _seven,_ not an old maid.” She pushes her tongue against Nicole’s lower lip, and seeks entrance, which is granted earnestly.

“I walked into the bar, you were _there_ , and…” Nicole giggles as Waverly slips her tongue into her mouth, and they melt together for a moment. Her hands grip her girlfriend’s nightshirt, and she tosses it over Waverly’s shoulder.

“I became your girl,” Waverly finishes. “Just like that.” She presses her lips to Nicole’s ear, and whispers. Every part of her wants to cover her bra-clad chest with her arms, but Nicole makes her feel brave and beautiful.

“My girl,” Nicole says, softly. “You’re my girl, and I’m your lady.” (And with that, she presses her lips to the gap between her girl’s bra strap and neck.)

“I’m your girl forever.” Waverly plays with Nicole’s hair, and ties her short locks into a tiny elastic, hidden in the pocket of her sweat pants.

They’re total opposites, Waverly in bottoms and barely a top, and Nicole in a top and no bottoms.

But they work. If they didn’t work, Waverly wouldn’t kiss each of Nicole’s fingertips and Nicole’s jaw wouldn’t go slack with anticipation of desire.

“I’m here. I’m your girl, and you’re my sweetheart. I want to show you how much I love you.” And with that, she pushes Nicole softly down into the mattress as a whimper escapes her lips.

“My girl,” Nicole says, running her arms down the curve of Waverly’s breasts before they reach her hips.

For five minutes, they’ll forget.

For ten minutes, they’re the deputy and the waitress, and nothing more.

For fifteen minutes, they’re not the special-needs-Mama-bears they’ve needed to become for the tiny girl who claims their heart, cohesively.

For twenty minutes, they’re Waverly and Nicole, the waitress and the deputy. Now, they’re the mother and the sheriff, but so much more, too.

When they come down from outer space, Waverly pulls the satin white sheet atop Nicole’s bare chest to keep her warm, and rests rests her messy-bun-head atop the thudding of her heartbeat.

She doesn’t say that she’s glad she gets to be on the receiving end of Nicole’s morning kisses and goodnight promises.

She doesn’t say that she’s glad to be doing this whole mommy thing with Nicole, although she’ll say it a thousand more times in the future.

What she does say is, “I’m glad you came into the bar, baby.”

And that’s enough to make Nicole tear up and crumble all over again. Because it’s not just them anymore. They can’t forget about the tiny girl who plagues their every thought. She’s part of them and made out of all of the love they can give her. Turning off the _CoCo_ switch only works momentarily.

But, it's enough, because Nicole smiles as Waverly throws the sweatpants and sports bra her way. They lay completely naked for a moment before resolve kicks in, and they’re back on the clock.

“She could have totally walked in and caught us. We’re _badass, Nicole_. We just took sneaking around to a whole new level.” Waverly throws the T-Shirt over her head and drags the pants over her hips until she’s somewhat decent.

“I love you,” Nicole murmurs, drawing a line with her finger from the tip of Waverly’s nose until it rests on her heart. “I love that you’re mine.” She brings Waverly’s palm to her lips. “I love that she’s ours.” Nicole haphazardly pulls the pants up her long legs and the sports bra over her chest.

“I love you, too.” Once she and Nicole are decently dressed for any guest appearances that could arrive in their bedroom, she wraps her legs around Nicole’s torso and spoons her from behind.

“Your hair styling skills aren’t even half bad.” Waverly settles her arms around Nicole’s belly and pushes a lock of red hair behind her ear with her pointer finger.  

“I’m telling you, baby, I’ve improved.”

Just like their daughter, Nicole is a sensory seeker, who responds to deep pressure. She loves Waverly’s warmth and scent surrounding her. She lifts Waverly’s fingers to her lips, and gently kisses each one, letting the fingers linger. Waverly’s lips meet the crook of her neck, and they stay, nestled into their cocoon until morning. Sometimes, Nicole thinks, it’s nice to let herself go, and be taken care of.

Although (Mothers’s) Day isn’t until Sunday, Ariel goes on a mission on Saturday morning. She holds Bolt by his harness as they walk toward Waverly and Nicole’s bedroom. Alice walks dutifully beside her cousin, holding the cards and potted plants.

“Are you _sure they’re_  up? My mommy and daddy are _snoozing_.” Alice knocks on her Aunties’ door and hops from one foot to the other. Her brown curls swish every-which-way.

“They up, Alice. Bolty up too.” Ariel jiggles the door handle, and much to her surprise, the door flies right open.

“You’re so lucky you have a sidekick. Every princess needs a sidekick, Ari. I got Buttercup and you got Bolty.” Alice bursts into the bedroom and helps Ariel climb onto the bed. She holds the plant behind her back.

“Aunt Nicole! Aunt Nicole!” Alice giggles as she watches her red-headed Aunt roll over and blink.

“Hi, sweetheart. Good morning.” Nicole yawns and stretches her arms to capture her niece in a hug.

“Say it, Ariel! Say it!” Alice practically shoves the plant into Nicole’s face as Ariel shyly lays next to her Ma.

“Mornin’ Ariel. Mornin’ Alice.” Waverly stirs and opens her eyes to the two little girls in matching Captain Marvel pajama onesies, giddy with excitement.

“Happy Mothers’s Day. Pot and cards. Pot and cards.” Ariel presses a kiss to Waverly’s nose, then drops one onto Nicole’s as well after her mothers’ sit up against the headboard.

“She couldn’t wait until tomorrow for the _real_ one, and Bolt and me helped her walk here.” Alice boasts about her helpfulness and settles in between Nicole and Waverly.

Ariel hands her foster mothers a simple piece of paper, folded in half, with tons of glitter glue. On the front, there is a picture of the three of them, holding hands. Waverly’s hands shake as she reads the inside of the card.

The left-hand side boasts a list of six different words.

COCO

WAVY

NICOLE

WAVERLY

MA

MAMA

The right-hand side has a clearly printed message from their daughter, painstakingly written in pink marker.

HAPY MOTHERS’S DAY

COCO. WAVY.

MY MA. MY MAMA.

I AM SO GRAF FOR ALL THE TIKX YOU DO FOR ME.

AND DOPTIN ME SOON.

LOVE

LOVE

LOVE

ARIEL MARISSA MUELLER.

Nicole and Waverly are speechless. So, they shower their daughter with hugs and kisses and thank her endlessly for their beautiful card. The four of them lay in bed, snuggled together, as Alice pulls out one of the worksheets Ariel completed, and shows it to her Aunts.

 

****

“My mom is special because she chose me! That’s _so_ nice, Ariel.” Alice turns to face her cousin, who is tucked safely into her CoCo’s arms, half-asleep.

 

Little to Alice’s knowledge, the morning escapade from the bedroom was solely for the purpose of good-morning snuggles from her Mama and Ma. Suddenly, there’s a loud knock on the door as the shuffle of footsteps comes nearer.

 

“ _Shit._ We don’t even have a bag. You take me then someone has to take the girls home. They can’t be sitting in the ho-” Wynonna clutches her stomach and taps her foot against the wood.

 

“Sweetheart. Everything will be okay. Breathe, darlin’, breathe. This isn’t the first time you have done this, and-” Doc stops for a second to catch his breath, Vera Bradley diaper bag with a change of clothes for Wynonna, extra underwear and bras, a stuffed dog Wynonna had been saving for their daughter, and her driver’s license. 

 

“Oh, I’m fairly certain it’ll be the last, Doc. C’mon. I don’t _care_ if I have to see Haught to Trot naked if it means I get to go to the hospital faster. This literally _sucks._ ”

 

“I have good faith that everything will be alright, Wynonna,” Doc says, trying his best to remain calm. “I love you, and I love our girls. I wish she would have waited to make her appearance a little later, but all in due time.”  He wraps Wynonna into his arms for a hug, and places a swift kiss on her lips before Wynonna turns her attention back to the door.

 

“I hope you realize that if the baby comes today, she’ll be _naked._ We have nothing ready.” She raps on the door, struggling to catch her breath.

 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Last time I checked it isn’t normal to go into labor at twenty-six weeks. Let’s go!”

* * *

 

_It's a girl. Congratulations Ms. Earp, Dr. Holliday. She displays markers of Trisomy Twenty-One. Have you reconsidered your options?_

 

_Okay. Okay. Let me hold her. No way in hell are we reconsidering anything...she's ours. She's perfect. She's so tiny._

 

_Ms. Earp, we'll have to start her on oxygen right away. Dad, would you like to take a peek?_

 

_I would be honored. Hello, little girl. I'm your Daddy and that was your Mama._

 

  
Stevie opens her eyes.

She sees a man with a funny line across his face, and a woman who wears nothing but a smile and offers her milk. A little while later, two more women and two children enter the room. The little girls and the grown women smile and coo at her. Being awake is exhausting.

She closes her eyes.

_Daddy, Mommy, Auntie, Auntie, Alice, Ariel._

 

_Family._

 

It might take her a while to remember all of their names.

 

She decides that she likes her new family.

 

She decides to stay.

Stevie watercolor by me

Ariel Manip by a friend. 

Stevie card by @possessedhaught

**Author's Note:**

> Stevie is here, and she's beautiful!  
> To learn more about Down Syndrome, please visit https://www.ndss.org/  
> :-)


End file.
